Blood.
It soaked the ground beneath Eleanor's knees, seeping through her clothes and into her skin. Still warm. Still Fresh, The Metallic taste filled her mouth and nose choking her.
Her mother's body lay in her arms, Elizabeth Aurelis, Who had laughed at breakfast just yesterday, who had teased Eleanor about leaving tea stains on the counter. Now her skin was pale as snow, her golden hair dark with blood.
A few feet away, her father stared up at nothing, Lucian's strong hands, which had taught her to swing an axe and make the perfect cup of tea, were now still against the bloody earth.
Eleanor's wings shook against her back, their white feathers now spotted red.
"I should have come sooner." Her voice cracked. "I should have protected you both. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry"
The sob ripped from her chest like a scream.
Twenty-Four Hours Earlier
The Sunridge Tea House buzzed with gentle sounds of afternoon life. Steam rose from teacups, carrying the smell of lemon and honey through the warm air. People chatted quietly, gossiping about the harvest, complaints about the weather, the kind of normal conversations that made the world feel safe.
Eleanor Aurelis moved behind the counter with practiced ease, her pink hair catching the sunlight as she worked. At nineteen, she had the kind of beauty that angels were meant to have, otherworldly and gentle, with bright blue eyes that held warmth like a candle flame.
"Two sugars, like always." She said sliding a hot cup across the polished wood to her favorite customer.
Elder Matthias took the tea with hands that showed years of hard work. His silver beard couldn't quite hide his fond smile. "you know me too well child,"
"Someone has to keep track of your bad habits." Eleanor's wings fluttered as she reached for a cleaning cloth, the movement as natural as breathing. Eleanor's wings fluttered as she reached for a cleaning clothe. "How's your arthritis today?"
"Better, thanks to your mother's medicine." He took a careful sip, closing his eyes in appreciation. "Tell me, have you thought aby more about Marcus Silvering's proposal."
Eleanor's cheeks turned pink. "Elder Matthias-"
"A good young angel, that one. Nice family, steady job with the Celestial Archive-"
"The bell above the door rang, cutting off Eleanor's embarrassment. She turned expecting another customer, but her smile faded when she saw the familiar figures in the doorway.
Elizabeth and Lucian Aurelis stood against the afternoon light, but they weren't wearing their usual clothes. Instead, they wore the clean white and silver of the Zenith Guard, The god-hunters whose very existence was whispered about respect and fear. The sight of those uniforms made Eleanor's blood run cold.
"Another mission?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her father looked serious. Lucian Aurelis had the kind of face that belonged on old statues sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, eyes the color of storm clouds. But now those eyes looked tired, older than his fifty years. He still had the pink hair and blue eyes his daughter inherited not a shade of gray yet.
I'm afraid so, sweetheart, The Black Angels have been testing our borders again. Three attacks this week alone."
Elizabeth stepped forward, her arms crossed. Where Lucian was like weathered stone, she was polished steel—all sharp edges and controlled anger. "We think they're looking for something Or someone."
Eleanor's wings twitched. "Can't I come with you? I'm not helpless—I can fight."
"Absolutely not" Elizbeth's voice left no room for argument. "Your place is here, safe, until you're properly trained. Understood?
Eleanor but back her protest. At nineteen, she was tired of being treated like a child, tired of watching her parents march off to face dangers she could only imagine. But she also knew that tone meant the discussion was over.
"Just...be careful. Please."
Elizabeth's expression softened fractionally. "We always are. Try not to burn the shop down while we're gone"
"That was one time," Eleanor muttered but she was smiling despite her worry. Lucian crossed his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His beard tickled her skin, and for a moment she was eight years old again, safe in her father's arms while thunder rolled ahead.
"We love you, little star."
"Love you too."
And then they were gone, leaving only the lingering scent of ozone and metal polish.
Elder Matthias cleared his throat gently. "They're the the finest warriors in the guard, child. they'll return."
Eleanor nodded, but the knot in her stomach remained.
The rest of the day crawled by with agonizing slowness. Eleanor served customers with mechanical efficiency, her mind still elsewhere. Every shadow seemed to hold threats, every gust of wind carried whispers of danger.
By evening, the last customer, had departed, leaving Eleanor alone with her thoughts and the settling dust. She swept the floors with more vigor than necessary, scrubbed the counters until they gleamed, arranged and rearranged the tea canisters. Anything to keep her hands busy and mind occupied.
Finally, with nothing left to clean, she locked the shop and stepped into the twilight.
The village of Sunridge sat in a valley between rolling hills, its stones lit by floating balls of holy light. Angels moved through the growing darkness with calm grace, their winds catching the soft glow. It was peaceful. Beautiful.
And somehow, wrong.
Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The air itself seemed to be waiting for something terrible to happen. She walked faster eager to get home.
"Eleanor! Wait!"
She turned to see Vera Nightingale running toward her, the older angels usually perfect hair messy, her dark eyes wide with panic.
"Vera? What's wrong?"
"You shouldn't be out here alone" Vera's voice shook. "Haven't you heard? There's been an...incident"
Eleanor's blood turned to ice. "What kind of incident?"
"A goddess. Here, in our territory. She had black angels with her, but the energy we felt... "Vera shuddered. "It was beyond anything we've ever seen. The Zenith Guard was sent immediately."
The world seemed to tilt. Eleanor's parents had been sent to handle border attacks. Routine cleanup, Elizabeth had called it. Not a Goddess. never a goddess.
"When?" Eleanor's voice sounded strange to her own ears. "when did this happen?
"an hour ago. Maybe less. Eleanor you need to get inside and find somewhere safe-"
"But Eleanor was already moving, her wings spreading wide as she launched herself into the air, Vera's voice faded to a distant cry, lost in the rush of wind and her own thundering heartbeat.
Please be okay. Pleas, please be okay.
She flew faster than she ever had before, cutting through the night air like an arrow. The familiar landmarks of home blurred past—the old oak where she'd carve her initials, the stream where she'd learn to fish, the meadow where her mother had taught her how to channel sunlight.
The scent hit her she saw anything else.
Blood. Rich and copper-sweet, carried on the evening breeze like a mockery of incense. Eleanor's stomach lurched, but she forced herself to keep flying, to follow the smell source.
The clearing opened up like a wound in the earth.
Bodies. Dozens of them, scattered across the grass like broken dolls. The pristine white Zenith guard uniforms was stained crimson some of the fallen had been mutilated beyond recognition. Wings torn from backs. Heads severed. Hands still clutching weapons that had proven useless against whatever had done this.
Eleanor landed hard, her knees buckling. The metallic stench was overwhelming, but beneath it was something else—ozone and sulfur, the signature of divine power unleashed.
An there, in the center, stood a figure that made Eleanor's divine blood freeze in her veins.
The woman—if she could be called that—radiated power like heat from a forge. She possessed an otherworldly beauty that hurt to look at directly, with skin like polished obsidian and hair that moved as if underwater. Her eyes were twin voids, pupils that burned with violet fire.
No wings. Goddesses never had wings.
In one elegant hand she held something that made Eleanor's world shatter.
"mom..."
Elizabeth hung limp in the Goddess's grip, her neck bent at an impossible angle, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and her golden hair was matted with gore.
Eleanor tried to move, tried to scream, tried to do anything but he body wouldn't obey. Terror had turned her bones to lead.
"Eleanor, don't!
The shout came from the left. Lucian stumbled into the view, his axe clutched in white-knuckled hands. Bloos seemed to gash on his temple, and his left wing hung at an unnatural angle, but he was alive.
"Dad-"
"Stay behind me." His voice cracked with exhaustion and barely controlled fury. "That's Mariam, The Dusk Goddess. She's here for the Sun Angels."
The name hit Eleanor like a physical blow. Mariam the Destroyer. the g Goddess of endings and final darkness. Children learned her name in cautionary tales, whispered it to give weight of their fears.
And she was here. In their home. Holding Eleanor's mother like a broken toy.
Mariam's voice, when she finally spoke was silk wrapped around razors. "how quaint. A family reunion"
"Why? Lucian's question came out as a broken whisper. "Why here? Why them?"
"You know why." Mariam's void black eyes fixe on Eleanor with predatory interest. "I seek the remaining Sun Angles. Your wife proved... disappointing. But perhaps the daughter will be more illuminating."
Understanding dawned in Lucian's expression, followed immediately by desperate determination/ He straightened, raising his axe despite his wounds.
"The sun angel you want." he said, his voice growing stronger with each word, "is me."
"No!" Eleanor's scream tore through the night air but it was too late. Mariam moved at inhuman speed. One moment she was standing over Elizabeth's corpse the next her hand was buried in Lucian's chest. Dark energy crackled around her fingers and Lucian's agonized cry echoed through the clearing.
"interesting," Mariam mused, her head tilted like a curious bird "you do carry the bloodline. But you're not the one I seek.
She withdrew her hand, and Lucian collapsed against a tree, grasping. Dark veins spread from the wound on his chest, and his skin began to taking an ashen hue.
"Eleanor..." he choked out, blood frothing his lips. "Run. Please. You have to—"
The light faded from his sky blue eyes.
Silence fell over the clearing like a burial shroud. Mariam stood amid the carnage, divine, and terrible, but when Eleanor looked again. She was gone. Vanished like smoke on the wind, leaving only death and the lingering scent of sulfur.
Eleanor fell to her knees beside her mother's body. Elizabeth's face was peaceful now, almost serene, as if she were merely sleeping. Eleanor gathered her into her arms pressing her face into her mothers cooling cheek.
"I should have been here," she whispered. "I should have protected ou. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
The stars above watched in silence as Eleanor wept.
Dawn came like an accusation, painting the sky in shades of rose and gold. Eleanor had not moved from her vigil, had not slept, had barely breathed. She knelt in the dried blood of her family, her pristine white dress now stained beyond redemption.
With hands that shook like autumn leaves, she began to dig.
The earth was soft, yielding to her desperate fingers. She dug until her nails broke, until her hands bled, until two graves yawned open like wounds in the hillside. Then she gathered her parents—her mother's broken form, her father's cooling body—and laid them to rest side by side.
She covered them with wildflowers. White lilies for her mother's purity, red roses for her father's courage. The colors blurred together through tears they looked like abstract painted in grief.
Eleanor knelt between the graves and folded her hands in prayer. the wrods came automatically, drilled into her since childhood: "May the :ight eternal guide your souls to peace. May the creator's love-"
She stopped.
The words tasted like as in her mouth. She stared at her own hands still stained with her parents blood and felt something cold and hard settle in her chest.
"Why am I praying to them?" She whispered. :To the ones who let this happen?"
The silence stretched on, broken only by the morning breeze through grass. No divine voice answered. No celestial choir offered comfort. Even the birds seemed to have abandoned this place.
Eleanor's faith crackled like ice in spring, the sound echoing through her soul.
"A survivor"
The voice came from the edge of the clearing. Eleanor looked up to see a figure silhouetted in morning light—an angel with platinum blonde hair and wings that gleamed like polished silver. She wore the white and silver of the Zenith Guard, but her uniform bore markings Eleanor had never seen before. Rank insignia that spoke of authority beyond the common soldier.
Eleanor struggled to her feet, her legs stiff from the long vigil. "Yes."
The woman approached with measured steps, her pale blue eyes taking in the scene with professional detachment. She was older than Eleanor, perhaps in her early thirties, with the kind of beauty that spoke of noble bloodlines and careful breeding. But there was something else in her face—a hardness that came from seeing too much, fighting too long.
"I'm Meredith Virelle, " she said, her voice carrying crisp authority of commandment.
"I'm a Ascendant-rank in the Zenith guard. You're Eleanor Aurelis.
It wasn't a question. Eleanor nodded anyway.
Meredith's gaze lingered on the fresh graves. "I knew your parents. They were good soldiers. Better people."
"They're dead because of what they were" Eleanor said, surprised by the steadiness of her own voice. "Because they served a cause that couldn't protect them."
"No." Meredith's response was sharp. "They're dead because evil exists in this world, and sometimes good people pay a price for fighting it. That's the reality of our war."
Eleanor laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Your war. Not Mine"
"Isn't it?" Meredith stepped closer her eyes never leaving Eleanor's face. "Mariam killed your family. She'll kill others. She'll keep killing until someone stops her."
:Then stop her."
"i intend to. The question is whether or not you want to help."
Eleanor stared at her processing the words. "You're recruiting me."
"I'm offering you a purpose." Meredith's voice softened fractionally. "The chance to ensure your parents didn't die for nothing. To make sure no other family suffers what you've suffered.
"Revenge, you mean"
"Justice"
Eleanor considered this. She thought of her mother's laugh, her fathers gentle hands. She thought of Mariam's void-black eyes and the casual cruelty which she ended two lives. She thought of the prayer that turned poison in her mouth.
"What would I have to do?
"Train. Learn. Become strong enough to stand against the darkness"
Meredith's expression was grave. "The Trials begin in three weeks. Pass them and you'll join the Zenith guard as a god-hunter. Fail...."
"I won't fail."
Meredith studied her for a long moment. "You say that with impressive certainty for someone who's never held a weapon in anger."
Eleanor walked up to where her fathers axe lay abandoned in the bloodstained grass. She picked it up, feeling its weight, its balance, The handle was worn smooth by years of use, and she could almost feel the echo in her father's grip.
"I do now," she said slinging with the weapon across her shoulder."
For the first time since arriving, Meredith smiled. It was a predators expression, all sharp edges promising violence.
"Then come with me, Eleanor. Let's see what kind of god-killer you can become".
Eleanor took one last look at her parent's graves, at the wildflowers already wilting in the morning sun. Then she turned her back on the clearing and followed Meredith into the light.
Behind them the wind stirred the bloodstained grass carrying with it the scent of endings and new beginnings.